


Blind and Deaf

by Cocomouse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, M/M, Smut, Texting, remus has a potty mouth, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocomouse/pseuds/Cocomouse
Summary: Remus doesn't do blind dates.They must be the worst possible social situation humankind has ever invented: two strangers some people have decided that maybe they should get in a committed relationship. You have two hours.So no, he wouldn't touch that with a ten yard stick, not if he can help it.But he knows better than to try and argue with Lily, so, here he is.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 115
Kudos: 428





	1. First date

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Bea and Lizzyfields for beta-reading this fic (despite the fact this was to be a small one shot that I started in April...)

> **21 : 21**

Well, it was safe to say that Remus had officially been stood up.

Served him right for accepting a fucking blind date.

Honestly, he was mostly humouring Lily at this point, it wasn’t like he had placed any kind of hope in this night.

Which made it even harder to admit that it stung. Being stood up that is.

While he could quite easily presume that there was a very good explanation for it, he couldn’t shut up the small voice in his head asking him if he thought that she might have spotted him, and had decided that he clearly wasn’t good-looking enough for it to be worth the loss of a full hour in his presence. Or maybe Lily told her at the last minute that he liked singing in the shower, and his date thought _'ew, no'_ and decided to binge watch Friends in her bed instead, not even bothering to cancel the date, or to come up with an excuse.

Which was ridiculous. He had never even sung in the shower in his life. But Remus could pride himself for bursts of unwarranted preposterous paranoia.

He didn’t even message Lily to ask her about his date’s possible whereabouts. He didn’t want to hear excuses. He didn’t want her to make a fuss over this. Tomorrow-Remus would be much more understanding and patient. Right-now-Remus wanted another glass of wine and some actual food.

It wasn’t all bad really. The restaurant was quite cosy — Lily had recommended it. There was a warm, dimmed atmosphere, where the golden lights and the candles struggled to brighten up the dark tables thanks to the black ceiling, despite the help of the long mirror that ran all along the two walls of the large room, above the continuous banquette.

The food was quite to his liking, too — at least the appetiser he had ordered while waiting was. They also had piled up hundreds of books behind the banquettes for the customer to choose from, along with some felt pens and crayons Remus guessed were to occupy children. He hadn’t dared picking them up to draw on his paper tablecloth, not that he hadn’t been excruciatingly tempted. He just felt like cock doodles weren’t very first date material (it wasn't going to be all genitals!). So he settled on pretending to read one of the books — something about a world of restlessly violent winds apparently? Hard to say, the nearby table’s chatter has been way too entertaining for him to pass on.

For the last half-hour, he’s been shamelessly eavesdropping on the couple one table over. The place was quite large, but mostly empty, people enjoying the late spring warmth on the terrace rather than staying inside. The quiet atmosphere actually made it hard not to hear what they said, he rationalised. Well, what one of them said, truly. It had been a guilty pleasure.

Remus almost felt bad. Because no matter how much it could personally hurt to be stood up, maybe no date was better than a bad one. 

And this one sounded excruciatingly terrible. It hasn’t been as much a conversation than just one of them very loudly boasting on everything he had, everyone he knew and everything he had done, and all those _fascinating_ things he knew or thought about, like the world couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn about every single thought that passed through his mind; and lest not forget the incessant name dropping. And across the table, clearly enduring, his date seemed so thoroughly bored of the incessant chatter that he apparently gave up on even pretending he was remotely interested.

Remus wondered why the blasé bloke even bothered to stay. He questioned whether the chatty one would even notice if his date just stood up and left. Maybe Fine Blabber Mouth would have liked it more if the other man actually left: he was clearly obstructing the view of his own reflection in the mirror, which he was without a doubt very fond of.

Remus knew he was being petty. And a little bit self-conscious, maybe. Blabber Mouth _was_ handsome, there was no doubt about it; charismatic to a fault, if you didn’t mind the overly-confident and full-of-himself type. Well built, too. Not exactly buffed, but his jacket hugged his shoulder quite nicely. Clearly rich, judging by his clothes, his watch, and his many, _many_ stories. He had impeccable hair: luscious, sandy waves that had made Remus self-consciously run his hand in his own unruly dirt blond curls. His unwilling date seemed to share most of those fortunate characteristics. Gorgeous, fit, nice clothes, great hair — but longer, and pitch black. Though, he looked like he wished he were dead. Or at least deaf. Maybe, if he got Blabber Mouth muzzled they would match much more smoothly. Maybe that _was_ the end game here—

Thankfully, his lavish lava cake arrived before any unwanted mental picture popped up in his brain. And, yes, he had gone straight from appetiser to dessert with a third glass of red. Don’t judge him. He had’s been stood up. He deserved that side scoop of salted caramel ice cream. 

Remus was wolfing down his chocolate cake, trying not to smile too obviously at the absurdity that was still going on beside him, when a very loud and off-key rendering of Whitney Houston blasted out of Blondie’s (quite) tight jeans’ pocket. Apparently, it was a recording of a very fun, very drunk karaoke night with his very good friend Melanie Something, who was, Remus believed, someone famous enough for the bloke to feel the need to emphasize her name. He was almost surprised to hear Blond Wave excuse himself with a swish of hair to take the call outside, rather than having his conversation right here in front of his date (maybe it was to have everyone outside made aware of his very important phone call, since the brunette with the dreamy grey eyes in front of him didn’t seem to _ah_ and _oh_ enough for his liking — or even react anymore).

And, of course, he spoke French.

Remus could barely muffle his laughter in his fist at the very loud _“Mélanie, ma chérie! Alors, t’es bien arrivée?”_ because how much of a cliché could this guy be? To his credit, the man with the raven hair had had the decency to wait for the other to leave the room before letting his head fall back on the banquette with the heaviest sigh Remus might have ever heard, and brought his hand on his face in an exasperated groan.

Remus tried to bite back his grin, which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed. Ice-grey eyes laid upon him. Remus raised an apologetic hand, staring back at his plate where the last spoon full of cake bathed in melted ice cream and chocolate ganache. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

“I’m not crazy, am I?” Raven Hair asked, pointing lazily at the entrance of the restaurant. “He’s a nightmare, right?”

“Well, a lot of people seem to enjoy his company,” Remus underlined with a clearly amused tone, thinking back to the many stories that featured some heavy name dropping.

The dark-haired man scowled. “Do you just go to restaurants alone to enjoy people’s pain and suffering through horrendous dates?”

“Well actually, I was supposed to be on one, but that’s the next best thing I guess.”

The stranger’s face softened. ”Oh… shite. Sorry mate.”

Remus waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, don’t worry, the cake was going to be the best thing there anyway. And I’d much rather be where I am than where you are. Not to add on to your pain but you’ve been the enjoyment of my evening.”

“Oh. Well, cheers, I’m glad my misery brought you some joy.”

Remus grinned. “Ok, I’m sorry, but come on! How are you even on a date with this guy?”

“It was a blind date. A friend set us up.”

“I hope you’re reconsidering your friendship with this person,” Remus responded with a grimace.

The stranger laughed. “To be honest, I don’t think my friend knew him that much. If at all. Probably more like… _‘hey, I saw this gay bloke at this friend’s party, want me to hook you up?’_ I’m not even sure they talked – well, at least I hope not, given…” He waved his hand towards the front of the restaurant where they could see his date through the bay window, roaring with laughter, to the apparent annoyance of those who were seated outside. Though his eyes barely fleeted away from Remus’ face. It was such a striking contrast from his interaction (or lack thereof) with Blabber Mouth, as those grey eyes were intensely set on Remus, unyielding, and attentive. 

“So… Your friend set you up with someone he didn’t know and you just said yes?”

“Well, that’s my fault, really. I asked him to set me up and I don’t think he knows a ton of gay guys…” 

“Haven’t you heard of bars? Clubs? Dating apps? Literally anything other than blind dates organised by someone who knows no one to set you up with?”

“Ok, to his credit, that’s not the first date he has arranged for me, and they weren't all that bad. As for the rest, well I’m trying to change my ways, that’s the point!”

“How come?”

The stranger exhaled, looking away. “All right, this might sound a bit… I don’t know. It’s just—“ he sighed, a bit sheepishly before continuing, grey eyes back on Remus, “Not long ago, I had a conversation with one of my dearest friends; she has been my partner in crime for a long time. We were reminiscing over a bottle or two — or three” he admitted, “— about our past outings, our relationships, horrendous dates and best one-night-stands, and out of nowhere, she confided that… She had no interest in that anymore. In dating. But not just the crazy hook-ups: all romantic and sexual relationships in general. She had tried it all, it was fun while it lasted but right now, she longs to wake up alone in her bed, read for hours, binge watch TV shows on her own, taking care of herself… _herself_. She has never enjoyed doing that stuff with her various conquests as much as she did by herself." 

He paused to take a sip of his cocktail, then continued. "And while she told me all that, I realised, quite suddenly that… I didn't want that right now. What she had with herself was something I wanted to share with someone. I haven’t been so much into very domestic relationships but, right then, I felt like I was suddenly craving it. Like thunderstruck, you know? I've been avoiding it for so long, it's like I didn't want to see when I started wanting it. To be completely honest, it surprised me a little bit but—”

Raven Hair stopped himself, a small sheepish smile tugging at his lips — his very pink lips, Remus noticed. “Er sorry, I’m rambling. So whatever, I went to my best mate, who knows a thing or two about domestic relationships and he agreed to try and set me up on dates.” He scrunched up his nose. “With what I hope are the only gay blokes he knows, otherwise, I can’t believe how shitty he thinks my tastes are...” He cleared his throat, probably trying to overlook his burst of honesty. “Anyway, what about you?”

“Me? Oh. Blind date too. Didn’t really ask for it, I just didn’t have the will to fight my friend on it. It felt like the less strenuous option, really, to just—”

Remus was quickly interrupted by the unmistakable honeyed voice that bid a loud French goodbye to his phone while strutting back to his table. He didn’t miss the defeated huff that his brief conversation companion let out at the arrival of his blind date.

He felt a bit bad for the bloke — Mr Intense Stare, not Mr French. He had to deal with either enduring it until it died its natural end, or until he got to squeeze a word in between two of his date's ramble to put a stop to it; while all Remus had to deal with was to find a way to drink the sugary pool of gooey chocolate and caramel in his plate while staying somewhat dignified.

Then again, it wasn't like he had a date here to judge him.

⁂

The lack of outgoings had made Remus a lightweight. Three ridiculously small glasses of wine had sufficed to make him lightheaded as he stood up too hastily to go to the bathroom, leading him to giggle silently at his own absurdity. He was not drunk, exactly, but he could feel his nose and cheeks a bit warmer than usual; all numb, and fuzzy.

It wasn’t unpleasant. If not for the slight urge to burst into small fits of giggle every once in a while. Though he was still sober enough to feel self-conscious about chuckling alone in a public bathroom, even with no ears around. But as he stumbled out of the toilet stall, he ran into the grey-eyed wet dream he had talked to earlier.

He wanted to facepalm. _Wet dream, really? You need your blood back into your brain, Remus._

Not that the man wasn’t uncommonly beautiful, his own sober self would – had – agree on this, but still. Get it together.

“Oh hey!” his mouth said on its own accord. Because, yeah, why wouldn’t you say hello to strangers in the bathroom? _Get a fucking grip, Lupin!_

Grey Eyes seemed just as surprised, or amused, at this misplaced greeting. Remus couldn’t help noticing the height difference. It hadn't been as obvious sitting ten feet away from each other. But, if he lifted his head up a little bit, he was sure he could put his chin on top of the other man’s head. 

No, don’t do that. It’s not a proper thing to do. To a stranger. In a _public restroom._

“Couldn’t reach the bathroom window to run away from your date?” he added. _Oh my God, please just shut up._

He could have punched himself. Thankfully, Grey Eyes didn’t. Remus might have been tall but he was closer to an elongated twig than to a fully formed adult, and this man seemed to be able to carry Remus on one shoulder with no great difficulty.

Though, after an initial surprise, he seemed to struggle biting back a grin more than a punch.

“Well, I was waiting for you to give me a lift but you forgot to bring me my jacket, so I guess I’m doomed to get back out there, thanks to you.”

Remus let out a very childish, ridiculous laugh. Which Grey Eyes graciously didn’t pick on, and turned to wash his hands instead.

Remus rubbed his face to steel himself, waiting for his turn. He could feel Raven Hair's gaze on him through the mirror.

“Couldn’t you just, fake an emergency or something?” he asked.

Grey Eyes scoffed. “Wow, I hope I’m never on a date with you,” he said with a huge grin, “you’re bloody brutal.”

“No, brutal would be to tell him exactly what I think,” Remus corrected. “I didn’t say I ever did this! Isn’t it what people do to avoid hurting each other’s feelings?”

“Yes, until it was vastly recognised that the _‘emergency call’_ was a way of saying ‘I’m too cowardly to tell you that’s not gonna happen.’”

“Then how do you plan to say that to him?” Remus asked.

The brunette looked down bashfully at the paper towel in his hands, gnawing at his bottom lip.

Remus looked at the man slightly cocking his head, and the realisation dawned on Remus, making his eyebrows disappear under his curls. “No…”

The stranger’s complexion got a slight pink tinge. “Well, let that be a lesson to you: never leave for a date without having tossed one off before…”

Remus burst into giggles — _wow, that was manly_. “You can’t be serious!”

“Believe me: had I been sated before coming, I would have left ten minutes into the date. And that much, just to be polite.”

Remus gestured to the stall. “Why didn’t you masturbate in the bathroom, then?” He wrinkled his nose in realisation of what he had just said. “Er… No. I’m not encouraging it, but…”

Grey Eyes groaned and threw his towel in the bin. He scrunched up his nose and looked back to Remus. “Well, he’s not my soulmate alright, doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun and have to revert back to my adolescent ways!”

“You know he’s going to look at his reflection the entire time, right?”

“Well I need to get laid sometime, don’t I? Plus he’s not the worst date I’ve been on...”

“Isn’t that what this whole searching-for-Mr-Right extravaganza was all about? Changing your ways or something?”

“Yes, and it had led me to not compromise enough, and here I am, horny, and you-don’t-want-to-know-how-long since my last half-decent lay. Or since my last intercourse for that matter.”

Remus doubted the sincerity of those words. In all honesty, those lips could have dumped Blonde Waves on the spot, walked out, and asked the first fit bloke that he crossed to bend over and have his way. This was not the face of someone who unwillingly lacked sex. Or he would have had way higher standards than even the rich, handsome, annoying man in the other room.

“Oh yeah?” Remus said, disbelieving. “What, weeks? Months? Semesters?”

Grey Eyes deadpanned. “Semesters? Really?”

Remus blushed, avoiding the bloke’s eyes. “What? That... happens. Sometimes. I'm sure.” He made his way to the sink, glad for a little distraction off of him. Though he could hardly ignore the widening eyes upon him.

Nor could he ignore the tone of amusement in the brunette’s voice. “Oh… Well this explains why you get turned on by men’s bathrooms…”

“What?” Remus spluttered, looking down, alarmed, “I’m not…Th— Those are just really tight trousers!”

“Oh so you’re just that big?” Grey Eyes responded in a sarcastic tone.

Remus blushed furiously, turning towards the mirror to try avoiding eye contact. It was hard not to feel the once-over that the man did. He cursed Lily internally for the fashion advice. Stupid slim jeans. And blamed the wine for the lack of come-back to avoid the few seconds of awkward silence, only broken by Grey Eyes’ teasing voice.

“Can I make a very indecent proposition?”

⁂

Remus was in half bewilderment of what he had just agreed to.

But really, how could he have said no? Well he knew _how_ , technically; he just didn’t know _why_ would he have said no. Why would anyone?

Because. Come on. Not to that obscenely pink mouth. Those sweet, lascivious lips that were already pressing against the cotton of his briefs; he regretted not having had a taste of them as soon as he got pinned against the stall door, before the fine stranger had sunk to his knees.

That was probably for the better. Kissing him would have led to overthinking about what was appropriate to do and what wasn’t; trying to figure out if there was some kind of decorum to maintain for it to stay proper and respectful. He would have messed this up. He would have tried to talk and ask questions. At least this way, _everything_ seemed inappropriate. So this was fine.

He regretted the third glass of wine, too. His senses weren’t as sharp and his sensitivity slightly diminished. And not feeling absolutely everything that this walking wet dream performed upon him seemed to be a crime.

Although, as he was freed out of his pants, somehow already half erected, he didn’t think he could have felt this tongue on his slit any better than that. It seemed like he had never felt something stronger than those lips smearing spit on his flushed prick.

God, monopolising the handicapped bathroom stall to get a one-sided blowjob from someone else’s date… Remus surely wished karma didn’t exist at this moment or he wouldn’t want to know what kind of horror would happen to him next to restore the balance of the universe. Being stood up didn’t seem like such a burden that _this_ was how the universe had decided to repay him. Not with the fervour that bloke was going down on him.

Not only couldn’t he feel his legs anymore, as all his blood had rushed to his groin to enjoy the warmth of this mouth, but Grey Eyes made the most obscene noises, sucking him with such passion it felt like he was making art. For a second Remus felt like he himself was the most delicious dessert ever created, for being tasted, gulped down and enjoyed like that.

Because, _yeah, brain,_ do _go to those weird thoughts while you’re literally getting the fellatio of a lifetime. This absolutely is the appropriate time to compare yourself to a dessert or a fucking canvas instead of concentrating on the bliss most people can only dream about._

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind and looked down at the view he hadn’t even dared to peek at yet. He had no idea why. Why hasn’t he been staring at that gorgeous mess in between his legs this whole time?

Of all the blowjobs he had ever gotten in his life, he had never seen anyone so entranced in sucking his cock.

This lascivious, obscenely salivating mouth working up and down his length, letting his tongue dart out and lick its way to get some encouraging, yet slightly embarrassing praise from Remus; those long eyelashes fluttering on his flushed cheeks, making it impossible to gaze into those icy orbs; this dark, shiny hair that occasionally brushed against his hip and thigh… He had the most pressing urge to run his hand through it. He let his fingers tuck a stranded dark lock fallen on the man’s face behind his ear, just as an excuse to brush the indeed incredibly soft hair.

This was either a very bad idea or a brilliant one, as grey eyes locked with his, making Remus lose all sense of… Anything. Words. Reality. Space, time, matter, inside, outside, bathrooms. Reality was just a mouth latched on his cock and the most stunning eyes looking straight into his with lust, now. Reality was the blood rushing madly through his body and tingling every nerve on its way. Losing all his marks, his hand involuntarily tugged at the man’s hair, earning himself a deep, guttural moan.

Remus wasn’t prepared for that. He was now seeing stars, and very close to losing it. He strengthened his grip in Grey Eyes’ hair to pull him slightly away, in a vain effort to control himself.

Only now, there was an obscene Greek God kneeling at his feet, panting, looking at him unwavering, mouth hanging open, wanting, chin wet with spit and pink swollen lips brushing just so against the tip of his cock. Waiting keenly; expectantly.

Remus wanted to never forget that scene. This was going to be his mental screensaver for every self-love session in the months to come.

Very slowly, he slid his tip between the silky lips, earning himself some very eager whine. And everything disappeared again, as he started fucking into the warm, hellish paradise that was the stranger’s mouth. He got to a point where he lost awareness of the noises Grey Eyes made; of those _he_ made. About which he couldn’t even care anymore. Not their existence, nor their potential loudness, or embarrassment. The only thing he was aware of was the warmth that spread from his groin to everywhere in his body and possibly beyond. And the tingle of his building orgasm. The stars behind his eyelids. The sense of pure ecstasy that rocked through him, growing, steadily, overwhelming him, and finally exploding as he came.

His head made a dull thud against the wall. He felt like he had blacked out for a second. Wishing for it not to have been any longer than that. He couldn’t register a thing. Everything was bliss and numbness. Only when he felt his cock sliding out of the man’s mouth did he even registered he was still in him. A small, embarrassing whimper escaped his lips. Did Grey Eyes even come? Or touch himself?

As he heard some ruffling around, Remus opened his eyes, watching as the other stood up. He couldn’t do much more than watching him stupid, with an equally stupid, dopey grin on his face, while Raven Hair looked as smouldering as ever, if a little flushed and groggy. It apparently didn’t prevent him from flashing Remus with the most infuriatingly satisfied smirk as he pulled Remus’ briefs and trousers back on and fastened his buttons.

Still feeling very orgasm-dumb, he just stood still, clueless of what had just took place; or how, or why. A sudden, small laugh escaped his lips, and he ducked his head, a bit coyly.

“Well, hum—“ Remus could feel his face blushing. “Thanks for that…”

He looked back up at Grey Eyes, unable to miss the plump, lustful wet mouth that shouldn’t be allowed on anyone; unable to help the reminiscence of where this was just a few seconds — minutes? — ago.

“My _pleasure_.”

And with a wink, Grey Eyes stepped out, leaving Remus to gather his thoughts and senses back.

_Well, glad I accepted this date…_


	2. First date, second round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans, dogs and second chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the texts:  
>  ** _Lily_**  
>  _Remus_

> 20 : 47

Maybe he wasn’t worth an hour of her time, in the end.

Despite the commotion that had led to him being stood up, Remus had agreed to reschedule their blind date; but after twenty minutes into the evening, he had trouble figuring out why she was even here. With him.

Not that he thought he couldn’t be a delight. He truly was, he regularly had tremendous nights by himself. And this evening has been very nice to the least.

Emmeline was brilliant; smart, extremely ambitious, tremendously well-spoken and cultured, thorough, stunningly beautiful, with an air of a younger Julia Jones. She had studied abroad in political sciences, and was currently taking night classes in law after her internship in a worldwide peace organisation, leaving her just enough time to do some volunteer work at a youth center on the weekends.

So, yes, no matter how high Remus could think of himself, he felt like every minute spent in his presence was a minute lost for the good of humanity.

She excused herself to take an important call outside, leaving Remus a little bit overwhelmed. He wanted to call Lily, asking her what that was about, setting him up with a woman who had her next twenty 45-minutes-of-free-time scheduled over the upcoming year? Except phones weren’t for phone calls, they were for texting:

> _This woman? Really? Are you trying to make me First Lady or something?_
> 
> **_I think that is in america sweetheart_ **
> 
> _Your point?_
> 
> **_in case you haven’t heard her speak yet..._ **
> 
> **_breaking news_ **
> 
> **_she’s scottish_ **
> 
> **_at best she could be prime minister_ **
> 
> _Yeah, like that kind of technicality is going to stop her…_
> 
> _I reckon she’ll run at least two countries by 2040._
> 
> **_I reckon you’re trying to make excuses_ **
> 
> _I reckon you’re trying to set me up just for the sake of it, rather than genuinely thinking we’d match._
> 
> **_I reckon you’re being a little bitch_ **
> 
> _I reckon you still love me?_
> 
> **_I reckon so_ ** ****

He put his phone back in his pocket, making his way to the bathroom, feeling wary of being left alone with colouring pens at arm reach and a paper cloth freed of their plates.

He just stayed there for a minute, not even wanting to go or anything, simply gazing at the tags on the dark wall of the stall and humming a tune.

Until he realised it might be a bit creepy if there was a client behind the door, waiting for a vacant toilet.

As he stepped out, he bumped into someone.

“Oof sorry mate I—“ he began. A pair of strong hands immediately stilled him by his arms, so he wouldn’t fall back. 

“Hey man, I thought I recognised you!”

Remus looked up to a familiar pair of grey eyes, a bit taken aback. “‘M sorry?”

The man with the devilish smile flashed him a grin. “I saw a mop of tawny curls in a red jumper when I arrived and I wondered,” Raven Hair said. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Oh, er— it’s the date that never showed up.” He looked down at his plain jumper. “And this is maroon.”

Grey Eyes quirked an eyebrow.

“Or so my friend say, I don’t fucking know, ‘supposed to bring out my eyes or some shite like that.” Remus grimaced. “Because apparently, Christmas jumpers aren’t appropriate for a first date.”

“Maybe not for one in fucking April. Aren’t you hot?”

Remus scoffed. “You’re one to talk…” He really wanted to bang his head against the wall, and settled to hiding his shameful blush behind his hand. “I mean, _I said_ : it can get chilly in the night, actually. _Ne'er cast a clout til May be out_ and all…”

Grey Eyes went towards the urinals, apparently a talkative peer. “So, was it worth the wait then? Your date?”

“Hmm, I guess,” Remus answered. He was a bit weirded out by the concept of chummy urinals. Well, he was weirded out by the concept of urinals, period. He was more of a sitting-down-to-pee kind of bloke. Because first, you get to sit down. Did he need a second? And then, eye contact at the urinals felt terribly odd. “For me maybe. I mean, the date is going swell, but it’s not going much further than that.”

“Why not?”

“She’s waaaay out of my league.”

“Ow, come on, don’t sell yourself short like that!” the stranger frowned, zipping himself back up.

“Oh no, I don’t mean like _‘she’s too good for me’_ — well, she is, in a sense — we’re just… We’re very different. She goes a hundred miles a minute, she absolutely has a twenty year plan; I don’t even have a twenty minutes plan. I’m actually counting on her to handle the end of the date.”

Piercing Eyes (he had to stop with aliases really… Sure, it was better than Wet Dream but still) went to the sink to wash his hands, looking back at him through the mirror. Remus tried to repress a flashback — why did he go to the same bloody restaurant? — and carried on. 

“We definitely don’t have the same kind of ambition in life: she plans to make an impact on this world; I plan to watch Paprika again, at some point. Maybe,” he shrugged. “Probably. I don’t really plan, ever. Things just happen to me. My life is a series of more or less fortunate and absolutely preposterous accidents. I mean, yeah, that’s what life is, basically, just an unending thread of accidents. Even if you plan, and actually follow through, the fact that nothing went to disturb that is by accident.”

Grey Eyes chuckled. “I take it that 9 to 5 jobs aren’t really in your wheelhouse.”

“No, actually I’ve worked for a florist for five years. Didn’t plan for it though— am I saying plan too much? I feel like I’ve just said that twenty times already…” Remus shook his head. “Anyway, I was just getting flowers for my mum, the owner asked if I was looking for a part-time job. It was just after getting expelled, so that was fortunate.”

“Wowowo, wait, expelled? From where?”

“Uh? Oh, high school. Hmmm, not a pretty story.”

The stranger frowned. “Weren’t you a minor then?”

“Hmm, barely.” Remus scratched his chin. “I may have lied about my age. I don’t think he was fooled though, he knew my former professor. The one who forced me to take my A-levels after I got expelled. I’m happy she did, though. So yeah, when I passed those, the flourist gave me a full-time job, but then — well, 5 years later — he died, so...”

“Oh.” Grey Eyes looked sympathetic. “Hum… I’m sorry? When was that?”

“Years ago. And it’s all right, don’t worry, he was quite old, he had a good life. It’s been a bit of a shock for me though, I had no fucking clue of what to do next.”

“That’s when a plan can come in handy,” the man teased. 

“Well if I did have one then, I wouldn’t have met a group of Scottish students in my mourning slash “what-am-I-gonna-do-now” bender, and I wouldn’t have followed them to Glasgow, nor would have I applied for a scholarship there.”

“Hold on, hold on…” Raven Hair shook his head in apparent bewilderment. “You followed strangers — I’m sorry, I don’t want to assume anything, but judging by your accent, heavy enough that I didn’t even question it, I’m going to guess:— from Wales, all the way to Scotland? Just in a matter of, what, days? Weeks?”

“Ok, if it wasn’t clear from my rambling: I had nothing holding me back there but my mum. Whom I still visited anyway. And I maybe might have had a teensy tiny bit fancied one of said students…”

Grey Eyes snorted. “I’m guessing it ends up with you two, snogging in the back of the English classical lit classroom and failing most of your classes?”

Remus scowled. “No, I ended up two years later earning a buttload of credits in the most random portfolio of courses, fuck you very much. Also broken hearted, and homeless.”

Raven Hair gave him a concerned look. “Hom— You… You’re not homeless right now, are you?” 

“Oh, no, don’t worry, it was like two years ago. Sorry, it sounded more dramatic than it actually was. The moment we broke up, I called my friend and told her— well, I probably just cried non-sense into the speaker until she came and dragged me back to London where she lived so I could ugly sob on her couch all day for weeks. In the end, it got me a great flat in London, because she moved out three months later and I kept her lease.”

Remus stopped, suddenly self-conscious, and scratched his temple. “I’m sharing too much, aren’t I?”

He looked over to the brunette, who was just amusedly staring back. “Oh no, believe me, I’m enjoying this. I mean, I’m usually scolded for not having a thought-through course of actions, but I’ve never heard a more random life story from a respectable-looking man. I’m very curious as to how it ends…”

“It ends up with me getting a very respectable job a few blocks down from said flat; a place I used to go brooding at when my friend buggered me to get out and get some fresh air. Jokes on her, I guess, with all the centuries-old books there, the air is anything but fresh. So now I sit around in the quirkiest little shop that doesn’t actually sell anything. The owner pretty much hoards the oddest, most ancient fascinating books and artefacts and pays me to scare any client away. So I just read all day, reorganise and do inventory when I’m bored, scowl at the eventual customer and collect my royalties on the side…”

“Royalties? You're an author?”

“An unwilling one. My friend snooped through my stuff and showed my doodles around to one of her acquaintances and somehow, I ended up with a contract for a children book on my lap.” Remus puffed. “I don’t even know how they thought it was book material; there’s no story or anything, it’s just literally doodles and smudged colours that I tend to do when I’m feeling emotions I don’t know how to keep in.”

Raven Hair cocked his head, gazing into space. “I could see how this would make a great book for children… To see an expression of emotion and recognising their own in it?”

That was how he was persuaded to make his drawings public. Hell, he must have known, he would himself have greatly benefited from such a book when he was younger. He tried to shake it off and changed the subject.

“So yeah, my date has a plan to stop world hunger; I don’t even know if I have food for breakfast tomorrow. She’s probably gonna be Prime Minister in four years. In four years, I may think about getting a dog. And that’s just because when I see her inauguration, I’ll remember that date I had with her and that weird bloke in the bathroom to whom I told about maybe getting a dog.” Remus paused, picking the hem of his jumper. “I know it sometimes sounds like I’m selling myself short, but I really don’t. I like my life right now. And myself. I’ve made more than my share of bad decisions, but I’m still quite content with myself, it’s just... In that case, my life and hers aren’t compatible.”

He glanced back towards Grey Eyes, who seemed to be staring with some kind of amusement in his smile.

“Er, sorry, I overshared a bit, didn’t I? I smoked before coming there, I don’t know why, that was dumb.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, I love being the _‘weird bloke’_ in the story of the man who uprooted his life to follow a random drink buddy, somehow _accidentally_ wrote a book, and went high to a blind date, then hid out in the restrooms to tell his life story to a complete stranger.”

Remus let a nervous laugh out. He was getting a little bit self-conscious; this seemed highly ridiculous laid out like that. But looking back at those grey eyes, there was no malice in them. Fondness, maybe... Emmeline probably finished her phone call; he should definitely go back there.

“Do you think getting a dog at thirty will be seen as a kind of midlife crisis?” Or, you know, he could just continue his conversation with the random person that went down on him the week prior, in this exact same bathroom.

“The real question is, why aren’t you getting one right now?” the man countered.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean... There are clear reasons not to get one; lack of time, space, green pastures… While, if you do get _one_ , there’s no reason not to get fifty.”

“Well, why _not_ get fifty?”

“Shhhhh, don’t try to lure me into canine heaven, you vile trickster!”, Remus joked. “Do you have a dog?”

“Oof, no, I feel like I’m barely responsible for myself. I don’t think I can be trusted with a whole other life right now…” He paused and chuckled. “I mean, for heaven’s sake, what if it actually keeps _me_ sane?!” Grey Eyes added with a mock shudder. 

Remus couldn’t hold back his grin. “And we don’t want that?”

The brunette looked at him gravely. “No, we do not. Hell, what if I do get a dog, and I take care of it, and I love it, and it loves me, and we get on vacations together, and we bake and watch TV together, and we fall asleep cuddling, and everything is perfect, and then, what? I just realise I’ve been going all wrong, wasting my time going on dates with _eh_ -people this whole time? I could have just gotten a dog?!”

Remus grimaced. “Please tell me you’re not on a date with Mr French again?”

“Mr Fre—?” The man doubled over laughing. “No! My god, no. And this one is all right, he’s kind, very cute— amazing body by the way; but he’s a crossfit aficionado who treats his body like a temple and weighs and analyses everything that goes in it… Way too much of a control freak for me. Well, you’d understand, giving your current date…”

_Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it…_

“Yeah, not the kind of anal we want,” he blurted out.

_Damn it, Remus!_

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand on his face while the other man tried to muffle his cackle.

“Well…” Grey Eyes responded, making his way to the door, “the night’s still young.”

Remus shook his head looking at the stranger who was walking out the door with a wink, and shouted after him.

  
“ _Oh my_ — Go get yourself a dog!”


	3. Third date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't drink and date, people.

> 23 : 11

This was a bad idea.

Letting himself get dragged to the club was a _Bad Idea_.

He did want to dance. He did want to dance _with her_. But he knew he shouldn’t.

It had been a great blind date, so far. Dora, her name was ( _“But you can call me Tonks, all my friends call me that”_ ). She was extremely cute, with her pastel pink pixie haircut, her nose constantly scrunched up as she laughed, her carefree attitude, and bold fashion choices. She had a wicked sense of humour, and was quite witty; and kind, too.

The date went with a very easy flow, so much so he could have forgotten he was even on one — which, to Remus, was what a successful date should be like: so nice, you forget you’re on the worst possible social situation humankind has ever invented: in front of a stranger some people have decided maybe you should get in a committed relationship with. You have two hours.

So, yeah, if he could laugh freely and talk as if to a friend, forgetting he hasn’t known that person for over an hour, that was a good date. A fantastic one, even.

It was close to perfect, until… Well, until she received a text. A text that seemed to have plunged her in a bucket of iced water. After what felt like a full minute, she re-emerged from her phone, seemingly lost.

He knew that look. He’s seen it. He’s been there himself. The pang of sadness that coloured her face; the sudden sense of confusion and loss. The dulled eyes of the recent break up.

Her brief, slightly strangled explanation and apology for her sudden distraction weren’t necessary. There was no doubt in Remus’ mind that she was still nursing a broken heart.

It didn’t take so long to realise that she was nowhere near emotionally available for a new relationship. She might have been quick to try to appear relaxed and happy again, but the shock was visible. She was on an emotional roller coaster. And apparently refusing to be on it, trying all her damn might to prove that she was a-ok.

He cursed inwardly whichever friend pushed her to try dating while still in this emotional turmoil. Let a girl fucking mourn before throwing her into the merciless pit of dating. It better not be Lily who lured her out of her bed of tear-soaked tissues, stolen Netflix, and ugly sobs (or so he’d assumed if Dora was anything like him), or he’ll have a word with his friend.

Because now, _now_ , Remus was in a very delicate situation.

A situation where a very attractive lady he had had a great time with was dancing very close to him; and he could smell her. And he felt like he shouldn’t be able to smell people he shouldn’t have sex with.

And he had resolved himself not to have sex with Dora tonight, as he felt like, despite her apparent carefree attitude, neither casual sex nor one-night stands would lead to any kind of relief for her (and if sex didn’t offer _some_ form of relief to all parties involved, then sex shouldn’t be had). 

He should know. He’s been there. Trying to get back up too fast and revelling in the idea of company. The crave for intimacy; not wanting to be alone; feeling desire again; feeling desired, too.

But now, here he was, a bit tipsy, moving on the pulsating music, coloured lights hypnotising him; with the unshakable urge to let his hand graze against her hip and resting on the small of her back, to brush his nose against her cheek, his lips against her temple, and have his tongue taste the liquor on hers…

He was saved by the bell when she made a gesture to get a smoke outside. Grateful for this interruption, Remus made a beeline to the bathroom, barely avoiding the people bumping into him, hoping to get his grip back ( _‘Come on, Lupin, it’s not that hard not to have sex, you already do that thirty day out of thirty-one’_ ).

Instead of his grip, what he found there was a mess of raven waves, in a black — not exactly opaque — top, biceps flexing as the man, leaning against the wall, brought his hands to his hair. Remus stopped dead in his tracks, a bit startled by this ridiculous coincidence. The man finally opened his eyes, revealing the icey grey that Remus started to get accustomed to, and spotted him back.

“Fancy seeing you here!” he greeted Remus, his hands fumbling in his hair before bringing them down. “You alright?”

Remus suddenly realised he was still staring, not moving, being his usual very socially acceptable self.

“I’m trying to remember the last time I entered a public bathroom you weren’t in,” he tried to humour. “Are you some kind of loo genie or something?”

“Yes,” Grey Eyes responded cheekily, “and if you rub me very fast I make your dreams come true,” he added, poking his tongue out.

Remus doubled over laughing.

The brunette could barely contain his chuckle himself. “Oh come on, you couldn’t have said that and not expect me to pick up on it.”

“I would have said that you make people’s dreams come true by rubbing them, but all right.” Remus tried not to think too much about their first encounter. It was the very opposite of what he came here to do. He gestured to the open door, hand still on the knob. “Were you waiting for someone to free you from your confinement, or are you sticking around to grant someone’s wish?”

“Hmm? No, the music was loud, and it got a bit too much so I came for a little peace and quiet.” At that, Remus swiftly closed the door to block out most of the noise. “You? Are you actually using the bathroom or are you just hanging out here like you usually do?” Grey Eyes teased.

“I don’t _hang out_ in bathrooms,” Remus defended himself, blushing slightly, given that’s exactly what he did the last two time he went to a public restroom. “Though… Yeah, I’m— I needed to ground myself…”

“How come?”

“I’m trying very hard not to have sex.”

Grey Eyes scrunched up his nose. “Ew, why?”

“Hum, it would just be a very bad idea and I’m trying not to be _that arsehole_.” Remus explained.

“Hmm, quite chivalrous, are we? How bad of a date is it?”

“Great date,” he corrected. “Great girl. Not-ready-to-date girl; probably not-ready-for-casual-shag-either girl. I mean— yeah, she probably knows better for herself but… Ugh, just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know. But yeah, she’s terrific. That’s why I need a time out.” Remus let his head hit the wall behind him. “I should have listened to you, and your precious advice; now I’m very horny, and very close to having my ‘ _decent guy’_ card revoked.”

They were interrupted by the melody of a flushing toilet. A man stepped out, addressing them a quick glance and exited at once. Initially thinking they were alone, Remus cracked up, quickly followed by his new bathroom mate. The latter suddenly stopped and scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“Ew, sinks aren’t there for decorative purposes.”

Remus turned to where the man disappeared and scowled. “Well, I’m not gonna eat peanuts here…”

Raven Hair walked towards the door and latched it. “If you’re not even gonna use the sink then go do that outside.”

As the brunette made his way to the sink to wash his own hands, Remus couldn’t help to notice his odd… motion.

“Are you checking out my arse?” Grey Eyes asked, looking at him through the mirror.

“Are you wearing a plug?” Remus couldn’t believe he actually asked this question to a stranger in a public bathroom.

Not that the man seemed too embarrassed by the inquiry.“I asked you first,” he countered with a wink.

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “You’re wearing a plug for a blind date?”

“Oh, it’s not a blind date,” Grey Eyes corrected. “I’ve called a friend to have some fun. And knowing the impulsivity of the bloke, I’d rather come prepared.”

“So, no longer looking for Mister Right, then?”

“Oh very much so, but if I’m going to endure the Gilderoys of this world — hum, that’s the bloke from the first night — then I’m going to treat myself until Mister Right deigns to show his face. I’m basically throwing myself bachelor parties for every failed date I get through from now on.”

Remus chuckled lightly, not realising his eyes were trailing down to the man’s backside.

“Are you looking at my arse again?”

Remus shook his head to — well, to _try_ to stop. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s just…” _It’s just that there’s a lucky plug in that perfect round arse of yours and I’m a bit envious, and very much turned on._

He rubbed his hand over his face, his eyes unwillingly trailing back _yet again_ to the man’s peach-emoji worth butt.

And the peach-emoji-butt-wearing man was definitely playing with him, as Remus realised he was still bent over the sink despite having finished washing his hands.

“Wanna play with it?”

His eyes flew up to the man’s reflection.

_I’m sorry?!_

He… was joking, right?

Remus looked at the brunette’s face, waiting for him to break into a mischievous grin, but instead saw his tongue poke out to wet his plump lips.

He stared at his – actual – back for a second, a bit mesmerised by the fabric of the sheer top at his shoulder, catching the dimmed light in some gold tint, and drawing shadows on his back muscles.

Looking back at his face through the mirror, he saw his unwavering, kind of daring look. Remus approached the sink slowly, keeping eye contact with the grey orbs until he was just behind him. Grey Eyes just tilted his chin up, still leaning above the sink. Very gently, Remus brought his hand up letting his finger brush against the tight black trousers, testing the water, then lightly cupped the _holy hell this is a perfect arse cheek_. He addressed it the tiniest of squeezes, almost unnoticeable, but it fit so perfectly, so thick in his hand... 

Met with nothing but a welcoming, steady breath, he ran his finger back towards his crack, then down along it until it hit the noticeable plastic protuberance under his touch, and pushed against it _oh so slowly_ , making the brunette let out a whine and grab the sink to steel himself.

Oh, this wasn’t good. Well. It felt amazing, but. It was _not good._

Remus gave a second tentative push against the toy, earning himself a second cry of pleasure.

No, no, no, this was bad, bad karma, coming-back-to-life-as-a-toilet-brush bad karma.

“Aren’t you on a date,” he asked the brunette, trying to bring them back to reason, his finger still stroking the fabric of the man’s trousers.

“No, I’m on a fun free-for-all fuck ride bachelor night, tonight,” Grey Eyes responded cheekily. “You’re the one on a date with someone you won’t fuck.”

⁂

Despite the darkness of the room, lit only by the restless multi-coloured lights, Remus spotted Dora quite easily at the bar, a beer in her hand, a man in a denim jacket at her side apparently chatting her up. 

Oh God, he hoped he hadn't left her alone too long… He didn’t know what it was like to be a lone woman in a club, but he was sure he wouldn’t want to know. 

He truly was the worst of knobs.

Though Tonks gave him an easy smile as he made his way to her. 

“Hey,” he said, approaching, wary of the odour that might be sticking to his skin.

Denim Man jumped off his stool instantly, putting his hand up towards Remus’ chest. “Hey mate, maybe leave the lady alone, yeah?”

“He’s actually my friend,” Dora mentioned casually from behind him, “He came with me.”

The bloke glanced back, puzzled, then gave Remus a once over with a crooked eyebrow.

“Then why did you accept my drink?” he asked Dora.

“You asked me if I wanted a drink.” She raised her beer bottle. “And I did.”

Denim Man squared up a bit. “You know exactly what I meant.”

Remus didn’t want to interpose, but he’d rather be pointedly at Dora’s side, on the ready if necessary, than staring at the back of man’s undercut. He squeezed past the bloke addressing him with what he guessed would be seen as an infuriating smile. By the time Tonks passed Remus her beer to get a sip, the stranger was positively fuming. 

“You’re just a manipulative slag!”

Remus was about to growl at the fucking git when he got interrupted by Dora’s unfussed demeanor.

“You’re the one trying to pay for pussy with a beer, mate, ‘should have asked if I was interested in a conversation with you, would have saved you 5 quids.”

She jumped off her stool, turning to Remus with a casual smile.

“Wanna get outta here?”

⁂

The breeze outside was gently sobering. They walked side by side in companionable silence, with the low roar of nightlife far in the distance. Remus looked at his feet, not knowing how to address the elephant in the room. 

“Sorry I left you alone for so long in there.” 

Remus was very confused as to why this sentence escaped her lips before his. 

“I got a bit tensed I think,” Dora continued, her tone far more dull than it had been all night, “Really needed a fag, and had a bit of a talk with a friend.”

“Everything all right?”

She looked in space, silent. After a bit, he noticed the tiniest shrug. 

“It’s not like there’s anything wrong, I’m just...”

She fell silent again. 

“Lost?” Remus suggested.

“Yeah,” Dora exhaled.

She stopped abruptly, facing him and looking straight into his eyes. 

“Ok, cards on the table, I’ve had a great time with you tonight, but I’m not over my ex.”

Remus chuckled lightly. “Yeah, figured,” he said in a would be comforting tone. 

“Oh. Not mad?”

He smiled warmly at her. He’d much rather be in his shoes than in hers. He shook his head no. 

She nodded as they started walking again. 

“We’re not going to have sex tonight,” she blurted out after a while. 

Remus couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I know, wouldn’t dream of it.” She scowled at him. “No I mean, you’re swell and all, and I had a terrific time, but I don’t really fancy shagging people who’d rather be with someone else. And it was quite obvious that you had too much on your mind — or your heart.”

“Well,” she bumped her shoulder against his — well, more like his arm, given her small frame, “I hope you still had fun tonight.”

_Fucking understatement of the year._

  
  



	4. Fourth Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going to what feels like his upteenth blind date, Remus should start realising that he's almost looking forward to it, but for the wrong reasons.

> 19 : 47

Remus almost hadn’t recognised him.

Although, he spotted him before he even saw his face…

After those three encounters, he might have gotten used to running into Raven Hair, and as it was the same restaurant in which they first met — and second met — Remus might have thrown a quick glance around to try and find the man.

But he’s been looking for a lazy sprawl all over the chair, hair falling in heavy waves, tickling an almost bare shoulder, wrapped up in a large collar t-shirt, or at least a tight top... The slightly messy bun (though probably done with the utmost care as to have those strands frame his face _just so_ ) and the dark fitted button down were almost surprising. Not that it didn’t do justice to any of his features; quite the contrary, the shirt did hug his large shoulders very tastefully, and his hair up showed off the sharp cheekbone in a way it was hard not to take notice of. 

Remus, truly being the eternal overgrown child, couldn’t help but take advantage of the man’s distraction to slide discreetly at the table next to him. He sat quietly, staring at the back of his neck until the man turned around and—

“Bloody hell!” Grey Eyes put his hand over his heart after his startle subdued. “You scared me, mate!” 

Remus wiggled his eyebrows. “Why so tensed, stranger?”

“Well, I’m not used to seeing you manifest anywhere out of the loo, that’s very unsettling!” the man joked, quickly gaining his composure back.

“Yes, I’m actually the ghost of someone who died out of sexual frustration in a public restroom, and your magnificent backside have freed me from my shackles.” If Remus had an appropriate-public-speaking switch, he hasn’t found it yet. Thankfully, the stranger wheezing over his table comforted him in the decision not to hit his head against the table; and, unfortunately, Remus carried on. “Though unlike most unburdened ghosts, I’ve apparently decided that I’d rather keep roaming this earth for more sexual relief than go to heaven for eternal bliss.”

“Hmm, that good, uh?” Grey Eyes said with a playful smirk at his lips, tongue poking out just so…

Remus cleared his throat. Loudly. “So, what’s it tonight? Blind date or self-set date?”

“Hmm, lil’ bit of both.”

His eyebrows knitted together, trying to comprehend how— just _how_? “Err? Three-way?”

Grey Eyes let out a bark of laughter. “Oh wow, you really are a horny ghost…”

“I’m sorry, how else can one have a date that is both blind and self-appointed?”

“Well, I’ve asked my friend to set me up with a specific person.”

“How is this blind, then?”

“I don’t know him beyond some overheard stories, and his banter with my friend through his phone. And as said friend doesn’t bother erasing my fingerprint from his phone security lock, I witnessed him — my mate, who was being right knob, to be honest — getting dragged through the mud by this bloke with unequalled wit and brilliance, so naturally, I _demanded_ a date with this wonderful bastard of a person.”

“Wait, is the friend the one who usually sets you on dates? Was this bloke on his to set-on-date-with waiting list? Because, if he’s behind Mr French Blondie, I don’t think I’d have even bothered...”

“Well, it took some convincing, my mate thought we weren’t each other’s type. But given who he has set me up with, as you have so delicately mentioned, I pointed out that he had no authority left on deciding who was or wasn’t my type. Though, to be honest, he knows me better than anyone else, and he certainly knows his own friend more than I do, so maybe he had a point there…”

“So, this explains the sudden change of demeanour?” Remus asked, peering over the man’s appearance.

Grey Eyes looked troubled for a second and frowned. “What, you don’t like it?” he said, glancing at his own shirt.

“No! No, you look… dashing. I mean, of course, you’re gonna look ridiculously hot whatev—” Remus clasped his hand over his eyes in embarrassment. Why would he... “—Hem, what I meant to say _is_ : of course, you look fetching either way.”

At least he’s made the man smile…

“Yeah, well, it kind of went to my head. This whole _type_ thing…” the brunette said, rather gingerly. “Might have changed outfits five times before settling on this one.”

Remus brows knitted together. It wasn’t his place, he knew that, but… “Are you sure you want to dress differently for someone you eventually want to date?”

“Well, this is not _not_ me. I’m just… toning down the most exuberant part. This is me as well, by the way. Nice shirt, hair up, and nervous wreck. That’s… quite a good part of me, even,” he added with a chuckle. “Not usually the part I usually advertise on, especially on dates, but… Seemed like the best way to go for tonight. I mean… I’m not going to throw the glittery tops away, this is just what felt like a more palatable version of me for a first date…”

He let his head hang back in a sigh, closing his eyes. 

“I knew I should have worn my pink flamingo shirt.”

A smile spread on Remus’ face at the imagery. “I’m very disappointed I’m not going to see this one. Maybe on the next date?” he tried to humour.

“Nope,” the man said resolutely. “This one is the one. I can feel it. I believe in it, this is the date to end all dates.” He slammed his hand on his table. “I’ve decided.”

“You’re awfully confident! So either this is Mr Right or you’re going to the shelter tomorrow? Finally getting yourself a dog?”

“Exactly,” he nodded.

“Don’t you think you’re putting a tiny bit too much pressure on this date?”

Grey Eyes snorted. “You think?” He breathed a long, agonising sigh, trying to will his hand out of their fidgety state. “Err… If I’m being completely honest, my mate has gone to my head with that and… Okay, this is my best friend, he knows me better than anyone, so what if he’s right?”

“What if you’re not each other’s type you mean?” Remus shrugged. “Then look at the bright side: there’s absolutely no reason to sweat whatsoever!” He looked at the man scowl and laughed. “Come on, if you’re not going to like each other anyway, how can you even mess this up? At worst it makes for an awkward 15 minutes of mutually recognising that fact and then you’re off the hook. You can’t mess a date that wasn’t meant to be.”

He wished this would have relaxed the fidgety man a little bit, but this seemed to have bummed him out more than doing him any good, painting a bittersweet half smile on his lips, his usually bright greys a bit dulled out.

“It just means you’ll have to hang on for at least another date for a chance to woo the actual Mr Right, who just can’t wait to see you in your pink flamingo shirt.”

Grey Eyes glanced towards Remus with a curious look. For a second he thought the brunette was about to say something, his lips parting and closing, but seemed unable to put whatever thought that went through his head into words. As the silence stretched out, Remus broke first.

“While, if this _is_ Mr Right then, oh boy…” he chuckled, “Get ready to have a whole lot you can screw up. You won’t even know where to begin. Only then you’ll have all the things in the world to say or do completely wrong, and scare the shite out of him, and completely and definitively mess your chances at domestic bliss.“

The icy eyes opened wide as saucers. “Okay, you went from somewhat helping to absolutely nerve-wracking and making me want to crawl in a ditch in a matter of seconds.” He shook his head. “Congrats, you’re just slightly more terrifying than the third time my friend has made me promise to be on my best behaviour.”

“Oh. Best behaviour… Does that mean no chance of a toss off in the stall later on?”

Grey Eyes let out another loud bark of laughter. “I’m afraid I promised to be respectable tonight.”

“I like the emphasis on ‘ _tonight’_ …” Remus said with a sly, playful grin. Whatever was wrong with him? The man was on a date...

“Well, if I do meet Mr Right this evening, I’m afraid I might become respectable for the rest of my life.”

“And that’s less unsettling than a dog keeping you sane _how_?”

“Have I _said_ that I was calm at any point in this conversation? Of course not. But I signed up for it. I’m ready for it.” He paused. “I’m pretty sure I am.”

Inwardly cursing the waiter who interrupted them to take his order, Remus distractedly asked for a glass of red, trying to find the right words to sooth the anxious stranger. But as he lost himself in contemplation, he drew blank. And Grey Eyes went in before he could will his brain to come up with anything.

“Ugh, who am I kidding, I’ve barely scraped enough _‘respectable’_ for just one night, this is going to be a disaster. My friend was absolutely right, I knew it…”

“Oh come on, it can’t possibly be that bad,” Remus tried to reassure.

“Oh really? For fuck’s sake, he’s a biscuit-baking private tutor who knows how to use stamps. He probably remembers his mother’s birthday without the help of Facebook, and owns a freaking dictionary or something. Meanwhile, here I am, a barely functioning adult, painting starkers at four in the morning while singing Italian opera. You do the math.”

“What math?”

Grey Eyes let his head fall in his hands. “I don’t know, they have math with letters, don’t they?”

It was hard not to marvel at the absolute cuteness of this positively gorgeous Mr Sex On Legs getting all flustered at the mere idea of a date with seemingly quite ordinary man.

“Do you really paint in the nude at 4am?” he asked Grey Eyes with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“On a good day I am,” the man said, eyes lost in space. 

“And what do you do on a bad day, then?”

“I don’t know, carving in my table with a knife and responding to spam mail?”

Remus furrowed his brow. “Like… unwanted electronic queries or straight up catfish?”

“Well, I do offhandedly insult the people I don’t want to talk to, who have no business knowing my email address anyway when I’m bored. But when there’s none left, I respond to actual spam and catfish. It’s entertaining, I mean. The stories you can build out of those tales they come up with… It’s inspiring, really!” After a pause, he ran a hand over his face, seemingly overwhelmed. “Okay, on a scale of one to ten, how much of a disaster do I sound like?”

“I think you’re adorable,” Remus comforted him. “And don’t worry, I bet the bloke doesn’t really know how to use stamps, I’m sure he was just bragging, trying to impress people.”

Grey Eyes puffed at that, raking his finger in his hair, making his do a little bit messier. As he tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, it drew Remus’ attention to the concealed device.

His brow furrowed. “I’ve never noticed those before,” he said, extending a hand towards the man’s hearing aid.

He stopped as the man spun his head, stunned like a deer in the headlights. Remus wished he could have some tact sometimes. Self-control. Anything to not be a total nitwit every now and then. He looked, tight-lipped, feeling like the worst git, as the man visibly swallowed.

“Yeah, I— Should have I let my hair down?” Grey Eyes asked, unsure.

Remus shrugged, letting his hand fall down his side. “I don’t know… I mean honestly, I’m guessing you’re the one who’s more accustomed to people’s reaction to it. I’d say that this doesn’t matter, but truly, I have no idea what it’s like. Either to have it or to have to deal with others reacting to it…”

Raven Hair’s face was still closed off, clearly uneasy with the subject. This seemed to sit heavily on his shoulders.

“Okay, I just have two things to say about this. First, I’ve seen you three times, and I’ve never noticed anything, even while being... quite close to you. Or, you know, speaking to your profile for the last ten minutes. So I’m either blind as a bat, or your cheekbones were on the way. Or maybe I couldn’t keep my eyes off of yours, I don’t know.”

Remus closed his eyes, trying to will the flush out of his face, as brutal, unfortunate honesty spilled out of his mouth.

“I’m going with blunt truth here, please don’t tease me on it or act like you don’t know what you look like.” 

He opened them back up, trying very hard to look past the man so he wouldn’t deflate before saying what he felt he had to say. 

“What I mean by that is: it’s not obvious, they’re discreet, and your face is distracting. Second, if you really want this to go somewhere with this bloke, I’m guessing he’ll have to know about this eventually…”

“Still, not great first-date material,” Grey Eyes cut in, “it can be a little off-putting.”

“Well, that’s when you invite him to the bathroom and suck him off until he sees stars.”

Remus felt a flutter hearing the man’s candid laugh, grateful that his complete lack of filter hadn’t damaged his mood. Or at least not permanently.

“What would you think if your date was basically deaf?” the brunette asked coyly.

“Probably ask a ton of inappropriate questions because I’m a buffoon without a hint of manners who don’t realise when I’m making people uncomfortable…” Remus answered with a tight-lipped smile. “So, please, if he does the same, as a foot-in-mouth puting fellow, I’m asking on his behalf: just tell him to shut up and give him a second chance? Mr Right won’t be Mr Perfect and may require some patience from you…”

Grey eyes looked right into his, a sweet smile spreading on the man’s silky lips, reanimating the glint in his eyes.

“You want to ask me questions about it, don’t you?” he said.

Of course Remus did. “You have no idea…”

“Okay, tell you what,” Grey Eyes suggested, “as you’ve helped distract me from my anguish, you’re allowed one question.”

Remus pondered the offer for a few seconds. “I need two.”

The man shook his head with a chuckle. “Ok, go ahead.”

“How much can you hear without it?”

“Not much. I can hear low sounds, like heavy bass, and a bit more from my left ear than my right, but you’d need to speak right into it in a normal voice for me to be able to hear you somewhat clearly.”

Remus nodded. “Is this why you were in the loo the other night? At the club?”

“Uh, yeah. I usually turn them off when I go dancing. It’s always loud enough that I can hear the music — well, not all of it, I hear mostly the bass. It’s much more comfortable, having them off, to be honest. It’s… different. I feel like in a bubble, safe somehow, almost cosy. Anyway, that’s one of the reasons I really enjoy clubs, I can turn them off while hanging out with people. But, the bloke I went with, he kept trying to make conversation, so I had to turn them back on, so, you can imagine, having to adjust from nothing to full blast, it was… it was very tiring, to say the least.”

Remus could only imagine. But he felt that. He wished he could know. He opened his mouth, about to ask another question, only to realise he already met his quota, so he turned to take a sip out of his glass instead, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air. He hasn’t missed the smile on the man’s face in the corner of his eyes, though. 

“Anyway,” Raven Hair concluded, “we’ve covered me plenty, and as we’re,” he briefly paused to check his phone, “officially entering the _‘my date is actually late’_ part of the evening now, please distract me with your—” he glanced back at his phone. “Actually can you give me a second I just need to…” Remus made a go ahead motion before the man started texting.

He somehow had forgotten he was waiting for someone as well. Looking at his own phone, he realised maybe he should have paid attention to the door, as his date would probably be looking for a lone man, not someone entranced in talking with his table neighbour. 

He suddenly regretted his choice to get the table right next to Grey Eyes. He’d probably have to move, or this would look like the worst, most awkward double blind date. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to overhear the conversation between his bathroom mate and his date. Especially if the date lived up to Grey Eyes’ expectations...

Remus turned around as he heard the front door open, revealing a man in a mustard unfitted vest, and saw Raven Hair spin so quickly he could have whiplashed. His hopes were soon crushed by the woman in the floral dress, following the man and pressing at his side while he asked for a table

The disappointment was visible in those grey orbs.

“You can’t be serious,” said Remus.

“…what?” 

“You’re really disappointed that this man isn’t your date?”

Grey Eyes shrugged. “Why not? He looks fine! Plus if he’s half as brilliant as I imagine him, that’s not a ill-fitting off-coloured jacket that’s going to put me off.”

“I have no idea if you’re putting a very low bar or an impressively high one for this bloke.”

The man huffed. “You’ll see, you’ll be there first stage to witness my date’s unparalleled wit and humour.”

Remus forced a smile on his lips, looking down. It just began to hit him that, maybe, he wouldn’t enjoy hearing the marvel that was this stranger’s date that much. Which was… very daft. And Remus should really shake it off. Because this was one dangerous slippery slope.

“So,” Grey Eyes continued, clicking his phone off, “we were talking about you. What are you in for?”

“Oh. You know, the usual. Blind date; with my friend’s step-brother this time.”

“Oh, a bloke then?” Raven Hair let out with a slight tone of surprise.

“Yeah,” Remus puffed, “I’m guessing my friend has gone through her entire contact list looking for single women before remembering that she could have picked the men out of it too.”

“Any expectations?”

“Not much, really. I just hope it goes smoothly. We basically run in the same circle, and are bound to run into each other again, I’m guessing? So if this date goes awry, it could get really uncomfortable…” Remus got distracted mid-sentence as his phone started vibrating. “I’m… sorry, it’s my friend,” he said after seeing Lily’s name appearing on the screen. He looked at Grey Eyes apologetically. “I should pick this up, do you mind?”

He unlocked his screen as the man made a go-ahead sign.

“Where are you?” he heard Lily asking on the line.

“Waiting for my date, why?”

“W— Are you at the restaurant already?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be at eight. He’s not here yet, though, but you told me he’d probably be late, so I didn’t worry.”

“No, he’s there, he’s looking for you.”

Feeling a bit guilty that he hadn’t even tried to check for his date, Remus looked around the slowly filling restaurant. “You want me to call and tell him where you’re sitting?” Lily offered.

And Remus froze.

“I…. I might have spotted him, I’ll call you later,” he said, hanging up — very impolitely — on her.

He looked over the raven-haired man, whose eyes were transfixed on the door, looking anxiously, gnawing at the skin of his finger.

Remus felt his blood rush, hesitating for a second. _Could it really…_

He tapped on Grey Eyes shoulder.

“Excuse me, but…” He felt a bit foolish; not that he wasn’t used to _that_. “Hum. Is your name Sirius?”

His brow furrowed. “Hum, yeah, why?” 

Remus couldn’t help the most ridiculous of cackles from spilling out of his mouth. This was unbelievable. Not knowing what to do — or say — he just took his glass and went to sit at the man’s table, and was met with a more thoroughly knitted brow.

He bit his lip, trying to contain another guffaw and calm the giddiness.

“I—uh… I think we’re supposed to be on a date?”

The man — well… Sirius’ eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing under his airline. 

“Remus?”


	5. Seventh Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus' fourth; Sirius' seventh.

> 20:07

Holy fucking hell.

Angel Face was Remus. Remus was Baby Curls. Sirius was on an actual date with Pouty Mouth. 

How was that even— _how?_

Sirius watched Baby Curls— Remus— his fucking date!— sit in front of him, his mouth agape.

He stared at those mismatched eyes, for what he hoped wasn’t long enough for it to be awkward. Which he probably did, as Remus bursted into a fit of laughter, revealing his absolutely adorable crooked canines. 

“Do you know you sound like a child when you laugh?” he blurted out. Remus scowled at him. “It’s adorable,” Sirius pointed out. 

“Fuck off,” Freckles responded without malice. 

“Have I struck a nerve?,” Sirius teased with his honeyed voice, “Are you actually three children in a trench coat? Please tell me I haven’t had sex with a child in the restroom.”

“I’m not even wearing a trenchcoat!”

“All right, three children in a jumper.”

Remus flipped him the bird, with a playfulness on his lips. It made Sirius feel a strange, warm flutter in his stomach. He tried to suppress whatever _this_ was, and suddenly wondered if that bastard of an angel was taking the mickey out of him earlier.

“Did you know… when you sat next to me, that—"

Remus raised his hands as surrender. “I promise I didn’t! I 100% just sat there to mess with you to pass the time,” he responded. “To be perfectly honest, when I got here, I was expecting someone who looked somewhat like James…”

“Well sorry to disappoint, you obviously were really looking forward to it,” said Sirius, looking pointedly at Remus' mint green jumper. God this jumper. This very wide collared jumper giving him a peek of this man's milky chest. Just loose enough to see a hint of freckle, that finally answered Sirius’ internal question: _were those shoulders freckled too?_

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing,” Remus asked looking down at his clothes.

“That’s a lot more collarbone than what you gave to see to the other dates I’ve seen you with,” Sirius pointed out. Fuck, the collarbones...

“Well, it’s getting hotter.”

“You’re getting hotter...”

A heavy blush crept out on the freckled face, no matter how hard Remus seemed to try to keep it straight. “Do you have a problem with my fashion choices?”

“I really, _really_ don’t,” Sirius said, eyes trailing down his date’s chest. “No offense to the bunny jumper.”

“What bunny jumper?”

“Didn’t I see you in a festive bunny jumper? Last time? I’d say around the moment your friend gave up on dressing you up before dates?”

“First of all, it was a button-up; second of all, they were jackalopes, how the fuck dare you; third of all, my date happened to like it, fuck you very much... And fourth of all, are you staring at my chest?”

Sirius’ eyes sprung back to Remus’. “No.” He paused. “I was staring at your collarbone.”

It was hard to say if Remus’ half smile was smug or flustered. But it suddenly fell, his brows knitting together as in deep thoughts. 

“Wait… Is this why— Do you read lips?”

“Uh, a little bit. I mean, not completely, but it helps with the…” he motioned to his right ear. 

“Oh god. I was wondering why you looked so intensely at my lips…”

“Yeah,” Sirius chuckled, “people tend to think I want to kiss them. I’m pretty sure most of my hook-ups were due to my deafness somehow.”

“I would have guessed this was due to your general horniness.” Remus stuck his tongue out. Sirius got slightly light headed.

“I mean, you did _actually_ intend to fuck Mr French after what sounded like one of the most horrendously boring dates…” He took a sip from his wine, his face slowly turning into an expression of amused puzzlement. “You shagged him afterward, didn’t you?”

“You know I’m part French too?” Sirius tried to deviate the subject.

“Oh God,” Remus cackled. “I can’t believe this, maybe you two were meant for each other.”

“Go fuck yourself…”

“You mean I should _coucher avec moi_?” Remus mocked with an odd lilt at the French words. 

“Wanna go there, Welshie?” Sirius challenged with a smirk. “Your accent’s so thick even _I_ can hear it somehow.”

“You’ve got a problem with it _Monsieur Croissant_?” Remus said with an exaggerated articulation. 

“Sheep fucker.”

“Frog eater.”

And here was that damn flutter again.

But… But his sinful eyes, his daring grin... Sirius surely couldn’t be asked to act cool and detached when he still could see the beginning of a shoulder, and… And that devilish tongue darting out to wet those pouty lips—

Unfortunately, Sirius’ worst enemy, also known as the waiter interrupting their banter, came to their table.

“Have you settled on anything yet?”

_I think I might just have._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very short, but the next one will be much longer.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after and flashbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It all technically happens in London, but I'm lazy, so it's all modeled after Paris.  
> (Fun fact, the restaurant's it's modeled after actually have a logo on their plates that looks like a moon and a star)
> 
> Also, the selfie was 100% inspired by [Tame Hill's Tinder!AU illustration](https://tamehill.tumblr.com/post/189103080650/tinder-au-maybe). (yup, go check it out because Big Love)
> 
> Texts formats:  
>  _Remus_  
>  **Sirius**  
>  ** _Lily_**  
>  _James_  
>  Marlene

> 11:26

Daylight was filtering through the blinds and the white curtains. 

It barely got to brighten the walls, as the many plants, perched on every possible surface of the room and hanging from the ceiling, caught the rare rays, looking dark in this dimmed morning glow. If it even was morning. 

Sirius blinked a few times, looking up towards the alcove in which the bed was snuggly fitted. 

_Ok, so this is definitely not my bedroom_ , he thought.

He turned his head, only to have his nose tickled by soft curls. _Oh_. Soft Curls.

⁂

_He had no idea where they were going. He was pretty sure Remus didn’t either._

_They were just strolling mindlessly along the bank, quite peaceful, even for such a sought after spot. It might have been a bit late though, as they’ve just been kicked out of the restaurant. And the place was wide enough that the few groups of liquored up folks enjoying the lukewarm air of the night scattered all along the canal didn’t seem too loud._

_Sirius kept glancing over to Remus, enjoying the view of the breeze through his baby curls, sweeping the lost strand away from his milky blue eye. His crooked canine was peeking out as the tall man was gnawing thoughtfully at his bottom lip._

_“Hmmm, Toy story.”_

_Sirius’ eyes widened in bewilderment. “...How was Toy Story your big bi revelation?”_

_“Well, we were watching an outdoor screening of it with a mate of mine at the time,” Remus explained, “'cause I've never seen it before; we weren't even at the actual screening, we were perched on ruins not far from there, so we could barely hear anything. Anyway, it didn’t matter, I couldn't even focus on it because of what I now know to be peak sexual tension between us. I didn't realise why I felt so hot and bothered until I felt the bloke's pinkie against my thigh, and my brain was like… pouf!” he said, miming an explosion. “I completely froze, too. It had never entered my mind before, being attracted to a bloke. I don't think I've ever felt real attraction before that time, though. So I was in panic of, you know: 'is it okay? Is it normal? Should I yell and punch the bloke or something?'… All the while, I was trying hard to telepathically will him to go further...”_

_“Oh. So it's not Woody's charm who made you weak at your knees…” Sirius pointed out. “Not even Buzz' strong jaw and broad shoulders.”_

_Remus raised an eyebrow. “You sound oddly disappointed by that fact.”_

_“No it's— I was thinking more 'which celebrity or character got you all hot and flustered'… Like your first funny homoerotic feeling from TV.”_

_Remus shrugged “Well, I also received my first handjob during that screening, so it remains, to me, like the most erotic film of all time.”_

_“That… might be the most disturbing sentence I've heard in a while.”_

_Sadly, Remus’ precious childish laugh got lost amongst the indelicate cackles and raucous from an inebriated group behind them._

_When he tore his eyes from the graceless drunks, he met Remus' gaze set on him._

_“Do you have any social or professional imperative for the next 12 hours?” Freckles asked._

_“No, why?”_

_A flash of grin was all he saw before Remus grabbed his wrist and hurried them towards a tangent street._

_*_

_“Did it just close?” Sirius asked, breathless._

_Only, as he looked around, the park fence they were in front of showed only one gate a bit further, which, given the heavy chains locking it, definitely wasn't an entrance._

_“No,” Remus answered simply._

_Sirius frowned, still gasping for air. “Then why did we have to run?”_

_The Angel Faced Bastard looked towards him with a smirk. “'Cause it's fun”._

_“Fucking hell...” Sirius groaned, “Then where are we going?_

_“In.”_

_“...How?”_

_In lieu of an answer, Remus just flashed him a grin, hands linked together in a leg up position._

_“Fucking hell!” he repeated. He shook his head, approaching Remus and glanced towards the dingy park — or more like, the side lot by the abandoned rail track. “Promise you won't murder me here?”_

_“Promise,” Remus laughed._

_“Because that 'not expected in the next 12 hours' bit sounds hella dodgy now.”_

_“I promise I won't murder you in the next 12 hours,” Remus assured._

_Sirius felt his phone vibrate in his jacket. Definitely not for the first time that night. His eyes were set on the man's unwavering gaze. There was no trace of malice or mischief; no dare, nor play in those mismatched, beautiful eyes. Sirius felt dizzy about how genuine this man looked. He sighed fondly and put his hands on Remus' shoulder._

⁂

A flashing of light wrenched Sirius out of his thoughts. His phone perched on the sill of the alcove had just lit up. He extended his arm to pick it up and check James'… 26 fucking messages. 

> _Lily told me he’s there_
> 
> _did you find him?_
> 
> _did he find you?_
> 
> _no response means yes?_
> 
> _cool, have a nice evening, call me when you’re done xx_
> 
> _is everything ok??_
> 
> _I’m gonna guess your battery’s dead, call me when you get home_
> 
> _please be alive_
> 
> _I’m not going back to being an only child!!!_
> 
> _no but Siriusly, be alright_
> 
> _fucking hell Sirius, stop making my autocorrect change Sirius into Sirius!!!_
> 
> _*Sirius_
> 
> _*s e r i o u s_
> 
> _do you know how daft I sound when I don’t spellcheck my important emails??_
> 
> _I hate u_
> 
> _I don’t tho, please message me back!!!!!_
> 
> _istg if I don’t hear from you by 1 I’m coming over_
> 
> _1pm obv_
> 
> _I don’t want to know what’s happening at your place at 1 am_
> 
> _plus it’s already 0:57 and I’m very toasty in my bed_
> 
> _nobody’s getting me out of here_
> 
> _except you if you need help_
> 
> _ofc_
> 
> _ok, I’m gonna go to sleep, I’ll leave my phone on in case you need me_
> 
> _I just realised that maybe your phone has been stolen_
> 
> _if so, please Mr Thief, could you tell me if Sirius is alright?_
> 
> **OMG JAMES, do you have ANY chill???**
> 
> _THANKS FUCKING LORD HE’S ALIVE_
> 
> _I haven’t heard from you ALL NIGHT what happened??_
> 
> **Can you venture a wild guess?**

Sirius launched his camera and took a selfie with a still soundly asleep Remus on his shoulder. He brought his phone closer so he could study, in the least creepy way possible, Remus’ sleepy form. Sadly, with the low light of the room, his freckles were barely visible on camera; only his pinkish scar that ran all along his cheek was clearly noticeable. 

But not nearly as much as the blooming bruises on Sirius’ neck and pec… He couldn’t help but to take a few additional pictures, making sure to send James the lewder one.

> _A SIMPLE TEXT WOULD HAVE SUFFICED_
> 
> _tho I’m happy to hear you’re both alive and well_
> 
> _he is alive, right?_
> 
> _Lily says she can’t believe you’ve corrupted his soul_

Sirius snorted at that. How did the man who barely blinked before toying with a stranger’s plug in a public bathroom could have a reputation of a goody-two-shoes to two of his closest mates?

He looked back at the picture he’s sent. Remus did look like an innocent baby. Sweet, innocent little demon. 

Sirius had to calm down. There were way too many fluttery feelings — and no, he won’t say butterflies — in his stomach since the day before. He was vehement that they only made their apparition since last night. And definitely not on previous meetings...

He just met the guy! He had to keep his head cool and his feet on the ground. Nothing good could come out of getting overly excited.

Sirius clicked on the picture to transfer it to Marlene

> **GUESS WHO FOUND MR RIGHT**

Or, he could just throw caution and reason to the wind and fall head over heels for this absolute angelic bugger. 

> Mate, if that’s a stranger you picked up at the club, please come here and sober up.
> 
> I made croissants
> 
> (yes, I make croissants now)
> 
> (chocolate and hazelnut filling, baby!)
> 
> He cute tho
> 
> **He’s my blind date, you git!**
> 
> **James and Lily’ bestie**
> 
> **They set me up with him last night**
> 
> **I did blow him in the restroom like a month ago tho…**
> 
> **Don’t tell James xxx**

Sirius ignored the buzz in his hand: he just felt a more interesting vibration on his side, and Remus’ mouth moving against his chest. 

He quickly put his phone down on the sill and grabbed his hearing aids, which thankfully didn’t roll off during the night. 

Putting them in, he asked in a low, raspy voice, “What’ you say?”

A groggy mumble raised from down his chest. “‘Moon’s showin’ its bum…”

_...What?_

“What?”

“‘Cause of the pineapple on the Chinese menu, I guess…”

Sirius frowned. Did his aids function? Did his _brain_?

“That’s why the wolf bites,” Remus continued. “'se of the moon's bum...”

Oh, okay. He’s just sleep talking. How adorable. 

“Will _you_ show me your bum?” Sirius responded, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“After you give me your _croissants_ ,” Remus sleep-mumbled, somehow still with a ridiculously pronounced French accent on that last word.

He couldn’t hold the chuckle, involuntarily shaking the sleepy man a tiny bit in the motion. It made him shuffle, and Sirius felt a leg snaking around his. 

“What, we can’t even share?” he asked in a humourly voice.

He felt a brush of eyelashes against his pec, and watched his own skin getting goosebumps at the contact. Very heavy lidded blue and green briefly set on Sirius’ eyes, before Remus' closed his again. 

“How many do you have?” Remus asked in a yawn, shuffling against Sirius, until he finally opened his eyes again, looking sleepily, yet somewhat expectantly at him. 

“Hello, sleepy head,” Sirius said fondly. 

Remus looked around. His eyebrows knitted together as he raised slowly on his elbow. “Where are they?”

Sirius bursted in a fit of laughter he could not hold in anymore. That man was so freaking precious. 

“Er, were you talking to me in my sleep?”

“To be completely fair, you talked to me first.”

“What did I say?” he asked in another wide yawn.

“You said the moon was showing its bum, but you wouldn’t show me yours.”

Remus frowned. “Doesn’t sound like me…”

“Unless I gave you my croissants.”

“That _does_ sound like me.”

Sirius chuckled and planted a kiss in the mess of curls. “Quick question, will you ever drop the French stereotype?”

“Never,” Remus answered resolutely. “But I’ll show you my arse if you ask nicely.”

“Really? Then what will I get if I give you croissants?”

Remus turned to face him fully and looked right into his eyes, to address him with a ridiculously lewd eyebrow wiggle. 

Sirius snorted. Might not be the sexiest sound to wake up to. Though it didn’t stop Remus’ eyes from dropping to his lips, almost longingly. Sirius felt his blood pump towards his face, as the pink pointy tongue poked out to wet his lips. And just like that, the cute, light atmosphere evaporated, the air between them getting thicker, hotter; the tension built up, laced with that warm, buzzing expectancy.

⁂

_They had climbed the fence, and walked uphill through the unkept vegetation until they had reached the tracks. Everything was so quiet there, protected by the massive trees. It felt like the city was completely empty. Like they were the only two people left on earth, if he was allowed such a cliché feeling._

_“How did you find this place?”_

_“You never went here?” Remus asked, somehow a bit surprised._

_“Did I never break into an old rail track around the city just to stroll around needles? No, not really.”_

_“I mean, yeah, okay, this part is closed to the public, but it's quite nice ahead as well, in the open section of the tracks; if you ever want to come again, but don't have a ladder on you, or want to be all legal about it...”_

_Sirius shook his head laughing. How did he manage to be the rule-abiding citizen, here?_

_Remus eventually answered. “I like walking around in the city, but to avoid traffic, I cut through parks a lot. I'm trying to be very mindful about opening hours, and I'm always making sure I'll be out of it at least ten minutes before closing. I still managed to get locked up in one, once. Fifteen minutes before actual closing time! I realised it was quite easy to climb out so I stopped worrying about closing time. And it happened to have a shared fence with this railway, so on one on my late night strolls, I sneaked in, trying to see where it went.”_

_“Hum, Remus...”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“There's no light ahead,” Sirius pointed out._

_“Oh. Yeah, it's just through the trees and bridge though, there's city light again after that.” Remus looked at him with his bastard smile. “What, you're scared?”_

_“No!” Sirius protested. “Though I already can't hear, I don't have much left if I can't see anything.”_

_“You have me,” Remus offered. Which did quite a number on Sirius' blood rush. “Don't you trust me?”_

With my life...

_Remus didn't wait for an answer and laced his fingers with Sirius', tugging lightly to guide him through the upcoming pitch darkness. There was a definite warmth growing in his stomach._

_“I'm not sure I should trust a man that is so completely different from how his friends describe him.”_

_“Bloody hell, what the fuck could they have told you about me?”_

_“Well, for once, I still haven't had an explanation of the professor slash bookshop keeper slash kids book author.”_

_“Fuckin— I tutored their neighbour's kids like twice! And they already go around saying I'm a professor...”_

_“That… indeed seems like a bit of a stretch,” Sirius conceded._

_Remus sighed. “They just have this idea that I'd be great at it. So after that first successful try, they already recommended me to two other families in need of a private tutor.”_

_“Is it something you'd like? Being a professor?”_

_He felt him shrug through their linked hands._

_“I don't know, maybe? Someday? But definitely not now, I'm very good where I am. Private sessions are fun, the kids are little monsters, so it's entertaining. But Lily and James keep fussing about how I don't have the ambition of my potential,” Remus said in a mock mimic voice._

_“And what are your ambitions, then?”_

_“Keeping my job until I'm bored? Petting every dog at the farmer's market back at my ma's? Charming my date and hoping my quirks won't make him run away?”_

_“Smooth,” Sirius said, absolutely not blushing._

_“I try...”_

_Sirius felt a finger lightly brush against his knuckles, having no idea if this was a purposeful caress or just… Buggering hell, that Angelic Bastard was making him lose all his cool. This has bothered him so much he felt like he wasn't walking properly anymore. And he didn't, really, as he nearly tripped over his own foot._

_Only nearly because Remus was here to catch him, and he basically crashed against his chest, one hand still in Remus', the other splayed above his date's stomach, his arm held tight by strong, long fingers. Sirius cursed under his breath, not sure whether it was because of the fall or the muscle he could feel under his palm._

_“Smooth,” Remus sniggered._

_“Oh, sod off! You're the one making us walk in pitch darkness on an old abandoned railway...”_

_Neither of them moved, though. Sirius should, his posture was absolutely awkward. He just got extremely distracted. As he straightened up, Remus' grip on his bicep softened, but didn't let go. He couldn’t see a thing, but felt a breath on his face. They felt incredibly close. The warmth irradiating from the tall man stirred something in Sirius' guts. He wondered where his lips were._

_His fingers slid slowly down the man's thin torso, as he tried to get even closer. He felt Remus’ lungs fill up, then deflate, the air exhaled brushing against his cheeks. His mouth must have been just inches away. As Sirius tilted his chin up, he was definite Remus had tilted his down. Their breathes intertwined and became one, as their lips got so impossibly close._

_“No,” Remus breathed as he jerked away, leaving Sirius dumbfounded in the cold air, just their linked hands as their only contact point left._

_“Wha—“_

_Sirius didn't even have the chance to protest that Remus was already hauling him in a hurried pace._

_Sirius focused on not tumbling down over the uneven ground, in the complete darkness. What had just happened?_

_“What do you mean, 'no'?” he almost shouted at the mad man._

_“Just wait!”_

_“Is it a fun-run again, but in the dark?”_

_Sirius heard the sweet childish laugh resonate in what he guessed was the tunnel under the bridge. He could see the light at the end, approaching quickly. He could see the curls flail around again. He looked down at their linked hands. Their linked hands..._

_“Up here,” Remus called out, making a sharp turn at the end of the tunnel, and walking hurriedly up a steep hill, steering a grumbling Sirius._

_“There,” Remus finally stopped._

_“What's there?” Sirius asked, looking around. They were between two lamp posts, by a balustrade overlooking a park and the city lights, a bench just there, certainly designed for people to enjoy the view._

_He looked over Remus, who seemed to be enjoying another view, eyes set resolutely on Sirius, with the softest smile on his lips._

_Oh._

_Remus tugged lightly on Sirius' hand, and let his finger brush against his jaw, and cup his face. He tilted his head slowly towards him, and Sirius was thankful for the lights, allowing him to appreciate the blond eyelashes obstructing the view of his irises. Their noses were almost touching. Sirius licked his lips and closed his eyes, his heartbeat drumming in his ears._

⁂

A series of buzzes wrenched Sirius from his thoughts. And, unfortunately, tore Remus’ eyes from his lips. 

_Those buggering wretched phones!_

Remus crawled above Sirius’ form to retrieve the damn device from his half-hazardly thrown trousers at the foot of the bed. It was hard to stay mad at the blasted thing with the sweet behind that now rested just under Sirius’ gaze.

“Your bum is so cute,” he breathed out. He let a tentative finger brush against the dip of his arse cheek. A soft sigh from Remus emboldened him to caress more purposefully the soft skin there.

He teared his eyes from that treat to look over his face, but Remus’ eyes were focused on his phone, eyebrows drawn together.

“Why are Lily and James freaking out?” he asked Sirius.

“Better question: why do they think you’re some kind of innocent soul I’ve just defiled?”

The sweet bugger looked over his shoulder, batting his eyelash. “Because I am…”

“Is it your face? Your eyes? Do people mistake you for an actual angel?”

Remus raised from the floor and settled himself above Sirius, elbows planted by his sides, nose inches from Sirius’. “What do you mean ‘mistake’?” 

Sirius’ eyebrow quirked. “Do angels fuck strangers in public restrooms?”

“They shag little devils in public restrooms,” he corrected, peppering Sirius’ chest with shy kisses, “to try and lure them into salvation.”

“Is this it? Am I saved? Am I in heaven?”

_I must be..._

Except in heaven, surely their friends wouldn’t be there to pop their cosy little bubble.

At the message alerts, Remus let out a grunt and rolled his eyes. “Has James been as much of a pain to you yesterday evening?” 

“You have no idea... “ 

Sirius sighed when Remus rolled off to get his phone, already missing the warmth of his soft skin, and his deep gaze.

“I guess I have _some_ idea…”

“Did you wake up to 26 unread messages?”

Remus snorted, and started typing. He stopped to look up at Sirius, his gaze stopping at his neck, then went back to his message. “Did you send him a picture of yourself this morning?”

“I might have,” Sirius conceded, sitting up. “Why, what did they send you?” he queried, pushing himself against Remus’ back. Truly, he couldn’t care less, he just needed an excuse to let his lips brush against those milky freckled shoulders. Remus brought up his phone so he could see his conversation with Lily.

> **_Do my ears deceive me or are you late, Mr Lupin?_ **
> 
> **_Brace yourself, I’m calling you_ **
> 
> **_I promise I’m trying to get James to leave you alone, but if you want him to stop bothering you, you better answer him_ **
> 
> **_REMUSIUS JONATHAN LUPIN!!_ **
> 
> **_I hope you wore protection_ **
> 
> **_It went well then?_ **
> 
> **_Also James is kinda freaking out_ **
> 
> _Ok, mom, dad, I never thought I’d say this but you guys need to fuck and let fuck._
> 
> _Get your nose out of my bed._

A new message popped up and he switched to James’. 

> _please tell me Sirius is with you_
> 
> _he doesn’t respond to my messages_
> 
> _…_
> 
> _neither do you_
> 
> _do I even have friends anymore?_
> 
> _:(_
> 
> _I give godfathership to my first born to whomever answers me first!!_
> 
> _God, Lupin! didn’t Sirius feed you at dinner?_
> 
> _you giant leech_
> 
> _also, MY EYES!!!_
> 
> _You’d think after eating him up all night I’d be sated…_
> 
> _But I kinda want to go for seconds right now._
> 
> _Want me to keep you posted?_
> 
> _brb imma put bleach in my eyes_
> 
> _I hate u both_
> 
> _(ps I love u both)_

“Go for seconds, uh?” Sirius hummed in the crook of Remus’ neck. 

He let his arms snake around the man’s thin waist, grazing his chest, his finger brushing softly over one of his nipples. Remus groaned, and tilted his head to rest on Sirius’ shoulder. Gosh, those little curls tickling his cheek were divine… He continued on stroking his pecs, his sides, placing soft kisses on his shoulder, his neck, his jaw; caressing his tummy, his hips, his thigh, his—

“Jesus, way to make a bloke feel inadequate,” Sirius huffed. 

Remus seemed to emerge from a trance, when he lifted his head up, and looked over Sirius, with heavy-lidded eyes. He frowned and gazed down to his, indeed, quickly filling and quite impressive cock. 

“You know, I’ve never understood this,” he pointed out. 

“What do you mean?”

“This whole big dick mania,” Remus clarified. “I mean, it fucking hurts to take it, when you don’t choke on it.” He looked up to Sirius with a lewd smile. “But clearly you don’t have any problem with this…”

Sirius smirked. “What can I say, I have the Big Dick Thirst.” 

“Well, I personally prefer smaller ones,” Remus confessed, letting his head rest back on Sirius’ shoulder, eyes closing, entranced in Sirius’ caresses. 

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked derisively. To be completely fair, he’s always been quite self-conscious about his own size; he worried Remus just said that to make him feel better. 

“Well, I can actually go the distance riding them, and they please me just oh-so-perfectly.”

“So, do you sometimes bottom?”

Remus side-eyed him. “Does this surprise you?” 

He shrugged. “I haven’t been with many who do, somehow.” 

“Don’t you ever top?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, just... haven’t been with many who wanted me to.”

Sirius let out a little whine when Remus moved in his arm, robbing him of his delicious warmth again, to face him completely, an absolutely filthy smirk on his lips.

“Well then, Mr Sirius I-don’t-actually-know-your-middle-name Potter, would you do me the highest of honours of shagging me senseless on this fine morning?”

Blood rushed to Sirius’ face. _Fuck if I would!_

This fucking angel, this absolute demon, this impossible man, this… Those lips. Fuck, those fucking lips. Those bloody perfect lips on his; kissing, breathing, pressing against his mouth. He wanted to lick it, to nip at it, to capture it and never let go. And his tongue — God, this tongue, who shagged him silly last night, now breaching into his mouth, hot and obscene. 

Sirius grabbed his sinfully adorable face and made them topple backward. Remus made a surprised sound in the commotion followed with a little laugh, quickly muffled by the kiss. Sirius reveled in it, in their bodies pressed together, feeling him breathing, his heart beating against his chest, his cock stirring against his hip, as their kiss deepened. 

Sirius panted, nails digging in the man’s back, gasping for air. Remus’ lips retreated, and brushed against his cheek, pressing little pecks all the way to his jaw, and under his ear. 

“Have you slept with those?” he whispered.

It took a few seconds for Sirius to emerge from his daze, until he realised what Remus was talking about. “No, I’ve put them back this morning to listen to your nonsense mumbles.”

“Do you always keep them on?”

Sirius frowned, perplexed. “Why would I get them off?”

“I don’t know, you said they weren’t always comfortable,” Remus pointed out, planting his nose back in Sirius’ hair. “That you liked taking them off for dancing, in clubs,” he continued, his lips nipping at Sirius’ neck, “that you liked feeling the music differently,” his fingers running along his side, “in your body,” his tongue tracing a line beneath his jaw, “don’t you ever shag without them?”

“I— No, I haven’t.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to?”

“I wouldn’t hear you moan,” he answered cheekily.

Remus raised on his elbows, planted on each side of Sirius’ head, finger brushing the baby hair away from his forehead, nose inches away from his own. “Wouldn’t you?”

Sirius swallowed thickly. He probably would. He wanted to. He was just a bit scared. He’s never let his deafness be obvious, mostly he’s hidden it for as long as he could. He’s never embraced it, not in front of people; not even with friends or family, let alone lovers. He always feared it creating a drift between him and others. That not hearing them would isolate him. 

He gnawed at his lips, getting himself lost in those green and milky blue. He looked down, gaze unfocused, feeling Remus’ chest pressing and drawing at the rhythm of his breathing, feeling the air brushing against his mouth as he exhaled, his pulse against his stomach. He concentrated on all their meeting points, every square inch of skin, every single hair tickling him. 

He reached out to his ears, tugging at his hearing aids with the usual _shrwinch_ of friction. And the silence. He sighed. Sirius loved this moment. 

He closed his eyes. Breathed out. He focused on his heartbeat. Breathed in. He felt Remus’. Breathed out. Low vibrations echoed within his core.

“Did you say something?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at Remus. 

He felt awkward speaking without his hearing aids, not knowing how loud he was. Remus looked at him with a fond smile and grasped his chin to turn his head. He could sense the warmth of his breath in his left ear.

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius heard, in a muffled voice. 

That man would be the end of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the end, though I don't exclude writing some extra chapters if I ever feel like it...
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kind messages, I really hope it made you smile! 
> 
> Love on you all <3


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